Warriors stood in silence, watching the King and his chosen clash in perfect rhythm, not like adversaries, but as if they had done this before, in another life.
"Isn't she supposed to be learning the basics," one murmured.
"But she's holding her own against him," another whispered in disbelief.
Sweat beaded at Lara's temple, but she didn't waver. Thornak grinned as he blocked another blow and caught her wrist. With a twist, he had her disarmed, but she reversed, knocking him off balance just enough to escape.
A low chorus of admiration rose from the men.
Thornak finally raised a hand, signaling the end. Lara dropped her weapon, panting, cheeks flushed.
"You lasted longer than I thought ," he said, his voice proud and amused.
Applause broke out around them, not forced, not polite. Real.
She turned, startled, seeing the warriors who had once kept their distance now clapping for her, heads nodding in respect.
"You've earned their respect," Thornak said quietly, stepping closer.
Then Thornak called for a short break, offering Lara a drink from a waterskin before stepping beside her on the packed earth.
"You did well," he said, voice low so only she could hear. "But instincts will only take you so far. Let me show you something."
He moved behind her, guiding her into a ready stance. "First, angle deflection. When someone strikes from above, don't just block. Redirect. Let their strength work against them."
He demonstrated slowly, lifting her arm and twisting her wrist just so. "Here. Then here. Try it."
She followed, repeating the motion with focus. The first few attempts were clumsy, too much strength, not enough flow. Thornak adjusted her elbow again.
"Use their momentum," he murmured. "Not your own."
By the fifth time, her movement smoothed. By the tenth, she was already quicker.
"Good," he said with a nod. "Now the second, low pivot defense. If they come at your legs, step back, twist the hips, and bring the blade across."
She gritted her teeth, mimicking his motion. Her balance faltered the first time. The second was better. He watched her closely, arms crossed, offering small corrections.
A few minutes passed. Sweat glistened on her brow, but she didn't slow. She executed the pivot perfectly, twisting and coming up in a flawless guard.
Thornak's smile was slow and full of pride.
"Well done," he said. "You learn fast."
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed but eyes shining. "Maybe it's you I'm trying to impress," she said, breathless but grinning.
Thornak's brow lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Careful, little wolf. Flattery might earn you extra drills."
Lara laughed, stepping back to reset her stance. "Then I'll be sure to keep it coming."
As the crowd of warriors slowly dispersed, still murmuring among themselves about the spar, Dain stepped forward, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"She's not bad," he said, casting a sideways glance at Thornak.
Lara, still catching her breath and tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear, glanced up cautiously.
"That's your version of a compliment?" Thornak asked.
Dain chuckled. "For a first lesson? That's high praise."
"The men are already talking. It's been a long time since someone earned their regard so quickly. She held her own against you,that's not something easily forgotten."
Several warriors nearby nodded or clapped a fist over their chests in quiet respect as they passed. One even grinned and said, "She could probably take Varric down if he keeps underestimating her."
Lara smiled faintly, her muscles sore but her spirit light. She hadn't expected to feel welcome among the elite warriors of Vargorath, especially after Selene's stunt, but she was starting to.
Thornak laughed, a deep, genuine sound, and extended a hand to her. "Tomorrow, we test how well you can use what you learnt."
....
Liam sat on the edge of a low stone wall near the practice yard, sketching lazily with a bit of charcoal. A few other noble children played nearby, among them the spoiled son of a visiting lord, already prowling for trouble, his eyes darting like a crow in search of something to peck.
Bryt sauntered over with a smirk. "Why're you always hanging around the palace like some lost pup? Thought this place was for real blood."
Liam didn't look up. "I'm not bothering you."
Bryt folded his arms. "No, but you do keep dragging that Corin boy in here with you, he seems to like to be wherever you are. Everyone knows his father's a disgrace, and he's just loud to make people forget it."
Liam's hand paused mid-sketch.
"Find a new target," he said, voice calm but edged. "If you've got a problem with Corin, take it to his face. But we both know you won't, because you only talk big when the person's not here to answer back."
Bryt smirked. "Didn't think you two were friends."
"We're not," Liam replied, finally looking up. "But he's still the son of a prince. That means something… whether you like him or not."
"Status doesn't mean strength," he shot back. "Bloodline won't save him when it matters."
"Maybe not," Liam said. "But it's still more than you'll ever have. Now go bother someone who cares."
Bryt's mouth curled in mock offense, but Liam stared him down until the boy finally muttered something and walked off.
What Liam did not know was that Corin stood just beyond the hedge. He had come in search of his misplaced dagger, never imagining such words would reach his ears much less from Liam.
Later that afternoon, as Liam was sitting by the garden fountain, still sketching, Corin approached him, this time without the usual bravado. He didn't say anything at first. Just sat down beside him and pulled something from his pocket.
It was a small wooden wolf, whittled roughly but clearly made with effort.
"My grandfather taught me how to carve," Corin muttered, not quite meeting Liam's eyes. "I made this one, but it's not really my style."
He held it out awkwardly.
"For you."
Liam blinked, surprised. "Really?"
Corin shrugged, then gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching. "I heard what you said earlier. About me."
Liam smiled. "You heard?"
Corin didn't reply, but his ears were slightly red. "Don't get all weird about it. Just… thanks."
Then he stood up quickly. "Come on. I know where the kitchen staff hides the sweetbread. You in?"
Liam grinned and jumped to his feet, clutching the wolf in his palm. "Absolutely."